


Purple Satin Ribbons

by TheAsexualScorpio



Series: The Crusade Against Adorable Underwear [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adork Ahai, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Jon, Bisexual Sansa, Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Jon Snow is a dork, Sansa overthinks underwear choices, Smut, The Dork That Was Promised, but he is confident in his pussy-eating game, seriously every step of the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7899655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualScorpio/pseuds/TheAsexualScorpio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an awkward incident involving misdirected pictures and a strange conversation, Sansa and Jon have their first date.</p><p>Sequel to "A Strange Conversation."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple Satin Ribbons

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here!

Standing naked in her bedroom, questioning her life choices was an unusual situation for Sansa Stark. In a little over an hour, she'd be meeting a stranger named Jon Snow for dinner.

If _that's even his real name,_ whispered a voice in her head that sounded like Arya. _It totally sounds like an alias._

All she knew about Jon Snow was his (possibly fake) name. And that he was cute. And that his voice affected her like a physical touch. It had been low and warm enough to put her at ease, but it had also been a bit raspy with a harsh, far Northern accent. It made for a combination that raked deliciously over her senses. It reminded her of blunt fingernails dragging softly over her scalp, through her hair, and down her spine, and she shivered just thinking about it.

Still, it was a terrible idea to go on a date with a stranger.

But she had _really_ liked talking to him.

What underwear should she wear tonight?

As much as she was questioning her common sense, Sansa truly wasn't thinking about canceling this date. She'd enjoyed talking to 'Jon Snow' too much for that. So, the shameful question that currently had her paralyzed with indecision was: what underwear should she wear tonight?

When she agreed to go out with Jon, her friend Myranda playfully suggested that she wear some of her new lingerie. Sansa had immediately shut that suggestion down, because she knew it was Myranda-speak for “be prepared to fuck him.” Sansa was _not_ planning on sleeping with Jon Snow. It just wasn't something she did on a first date. She sometimes wished it was, so she wouldn't feel left out when Margaery and Randa traded post hook-up stories, but she had never been attracted to someone enough to just jump into bed with them. Sleeping with Margaery on their second date was the closest Sansa had ever gotten to that level of attraction.

She let out a frustrated sigh as she looked back and forth between her old underwear and the new stuff she'd bought yesterday. Really, it should be no contest. The newer ones fit better, looked nicer, and made her feel sexy and confident. The only reason she hadn't thrown away the old ones already was because Sansa Stark was a creature of habit. However, it felt like if she did wear the new ones, she was following Myranda's not-so-implicit suggestion that she have sex with Jon.

She found her gaze lingering on the new lingerie and came to a decision. She would compromise. From the old stuff, she picked a lilac tee-shirt bra. From her new things, she picked a pair of black, satin panties with purple ribbons at the hips. There. She could be sexy without completely stepping out of her comfort zone. She put the underwear on and went to her closet to pick out the rest of her outfit. This part was much easier. A purple sundress paired with a jacket was casual enough for the restaurant they were going to but still nice enough for a date. A pair of sandals would complete the look. The laid the outfit out on the bed and went to dry her hair and put on makeup. Once all that was done, she dressed, picked up her purse, and she was ready to go.

They were meeting at a little Pentoshi place a few blocks down the street that everyone seemed to like. Barely ten minutes after she'd left her room, she was standing at the door. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Sansa looked around and noticed a man in a charcoal jacket and dark jeans standing off to the side. He was turned away from her, looking at his phone. Was that him? She thought the hair might be right. She took her own phone out of her purse and pulled up Jon Snow's contact information. She looked at the selfie he'd sent her for several seconds and then turned her attention back to the man standing a few feet from her. She was right about the hair, but she couldn't see much else about him with him standing the way he was. She took a couple of steps toward him.

“Jon Snow?” she asked.

The man started, nearly dropping his phone, and Sansa bit back a smile at his expense. Then, he looked up, and she stopped breathing. He definitely matched his picture, but it was different seeing him in person. His eyes caught her attention first. They were dark gray, almost black, but they looked warm and expressive. She could clearly see his surprise and pleasure in them. His face was next, pale and a bit on the long side with a dark beard trimmed close to his jaw. It was a Northern face, and it reminded her pleasantly of home. He also had dark, somewhat curly hair, and Sansa's fingers itched to bury themselves in it. His full mouth curved into a small smile, and Sansa found herself smiling back at him.

**~O~**

“Jon Snow?” a woman's voice asked.

Jon started, almost dropping his phone. He put it in his pocket and turned to face the person speaking to him. For a second, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Watching him expectantly was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in real life, but he couldn't seem to answer her. Was _this_ her? He wished he could check, to make sure he wasn't going crazy, but he'd deleted the only pictures she'd sent him after their conversation yesterday.

If it was, she was even prettier than her pictures had led him to believe. Her sunset-red hair was long and unbound, falling to her waist, and it gleamed under the lights coming from the window behind her. Ocean blue eyes stood out from a pale, heart-shaped face. She had high cheekbones, a small straight nose, and full, dark pink lips, which were currently curled into a warm smile. She wore a purple dress, which showed off a lushly curved figure and long legs. She was almost as tall as he was, even in her flat sandals.

Finally, after a painfully long moment of silence, he managed to croak out, “Sansa Stark?”

She smiled brightly, and Jon swore he went blind for a second.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, holding out a hand for him to shake.

“Nice to meet you.” he parroted, shaking her hand. He didn't think to let it go until she stepped back. He cringed and apologized, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“It's fine. I just need it back for a little while,” she teased, and he felt his face grow warm. “Shall we go inside?”

“Erm, yes,” Jon said. He opened the door for her, and she gave him a thankful smile as she walked inside.

They were seated quickly, and once the waitress had left to fetch their drinks, Sansa removed her jacket and draped it over the chair behind her.

Jon found himself mesmerized by the newly exposed skin. His gaze trailed down her graceful neck to her collarbone and then to her cleavage. He heard Sansa say something, but he didn't make out the words.

“Jon?” she asked, jarring him out of half-formed fantasies of his tongue taking the same path his eyes just had.

“Sorry,” he blurted again. He shook his head to clear it. “I was distracted for a second. What did you say?” He hoped she hadn't notice him ogling her like a pervert.

“I asked you to tell me about yourself,” she said. “Bit of a boring start, I know, but it's all I could think of.” She sounded unsure, and Jon was horrified. He didn't want her to think he was bored with her.

“It's not boring. I'm not bored,” he said hurriedly. “Like I said, I was just distracted by your...” Gods, he couldn't tell her what had distracted him. “Your dress!”

 _Nailed it_. The sarcastic voice in his head reminded him of Ygritte.

“My dress?” she asked cautiously. She looked down at it, and Jon resisted the urge to cringe at his own stupidity.

“It's a nice dress,” he said lamely.

“Thank you.” Now, Sansa looked amused, which Jon supposed was better than self-deprecating. Plus, she didn't seem malicious, even if she was trying not to laugh at him.

“You're welcome.”

The drinks arrived then, and Jon instantly took a long swallow of his to keep from saying anything else. Sansa took a more dignified sip of hers, still looking terribly amused. The waitress asked if they were ready to order, and Jon ordered his usual. Sansa ordered some kind of seafood medley in a lemon cream sauce. As the waitress took their menus, Jon noticed she hadn't even looked at hers.

“Do you come here often?” He'd barely gotten the question out before he realized what it sounded like. He clamped his mouth shut, eyes wide, and Sansa promptly burst out laughing at the look on his face.

“Really?” she giggled.

“It wasn't meant as a pick-up line. I just... noticed that you didn't look at the menu before you ordered.” Jon looked at the table and heaved an exasperated sigh. When Sansa stopped laughing, he looked back up at her. “This is going rather badly, isn't it?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. She sounded like she might laugh again. “I think it's going fine. You're cute.”

“I was going for suave and terribly handsome,” Jon said dryly.

Sansa laughed again, and Jon decided that perhaps 'cute' wasn't the worst description she could have given of him.

“So,” Sansa said when she'd composed herself. “back to the original question. Care to tell me about yourself now? Or should I go first?”

“I'll go first. If I'm going to make a fool of myself, I'd just as soon get it all done at once.”

Sansa let out another peal of laughter, and Jon finally laughed as well.

**~O~**

Grinning, Sansa waited for Jon to stop laughing. She was glad that he finally seemed to be relaxing, because she hadn't been lying when she told him she thought this date was going fine. In fact, it was shaping up to be one of the best dates she'd had in a while, even if Jon Snow was a massive dork. He was a cute dork and sweet. His awkwardness made her want to crawl in his lap and cuddle him. And maybe play with his hair. For a moment, she imagined sitting his lap and playing with his hair, running her fingers through it, and then down his jaw, tracing his lips, kissing him, tasting him...Sansa's eyes went wide, and she blinked rapidly. Well, that escalated quickly.

“Sansa?”

She started, almost knocking over her drink. “Sorry! I was, erm, distracted. Sorry.” She smiled sheepishly.

“Oh no, I've gotten to you,” Jon teased.

“It seems you have,” Sansa replied, taking a quick breath. She smiled again, more assuredly this time. “What were you saying?”

“You didn't miss much. I said my name is Jon Snow. I'm twenty-three, and studying for the GMAT has taken over my life.”

“Are you doing your Master's at KLU then?” she asked, hoping she could distract him from her own embarrassing episode.

“I am. Or, I want to. It all depends on the GMAT results.”

“What are you majoring in?”

“Anthropology. I'm studying the Free Folk.”

Sansa cocked her head at him. “King's Landing doesn't seem like the place to study the Free Folk.”

Jon shrugged. “Maester Aemon Targaryen is here. He spent decades studying the Free Folk. I wanted to learn from the best.”

The food arrived, and they were quiet for a moment. After taking a couple of bites of his food, Jon spoke again.

“I'm monopolizing the conversation, which is rare for me. Your turn. Tell me about you.”

“Alright. My name's Sansa Stark. I'm twenty years old, and I'm a sophomore at St. Naerys College. I'm majoring in history, and I know I want to be a college professor. I'm not sure where to do post-grad though. Part of me thinks KLU, another part wants to go back home to the North and study in White Harbor, and another part wants to go somewhere else entirely, like Oldtown.” By the time she finished speaking, Sansa realized she'd been talking rather fast. She took a breath and then took a sip of her drink. Jon waited for her to put her drink down and then spoke again.

“So, you _are_ from the North then? I suspected, but I wasn't entirely sure. You've got the accent. Barrowlands?” he guessed.

Sansa smiled at his perceptiveness. “Little bit further North. I actually grew up just outside Wintertown. You have a Northern accent yourself. You sound like you're from around the Wall.”

“I was actually discharged from the Night's Watch last year. I joined after high school and served long enough to get my Bachelor's.” Jon explained, sounded embarrassed. He looked down at his food.

Sansa was pretty sure she knew why he was embarrassed. Most people, particularly those south of the Neck, thought that the Night's Watch was for criminals and poor people. Taking a chance, she placed her hand on top of his. He looked up at her, clearly surprised, and she smiled reassuringly. “My father says it's an honorable calling.”

He looked both surprised and grateful, and her smile widened.

“I also have an uncle in the Watch.” Sansa added, taking her hand away. “Did you ever meet a Benjen Stark?”

“Your uncle is Benjen Stark?” Jon asked, sounding surprised.

“Yep.” Sansa took a couple of bites of her food.

“I was in his Ranging Unit.” Suddenly, Jon froze, wide-eyed with his fork poised a couple of inches from his mouth.

“Jon?” Sansa asked, concerned when he didn't move. “Are you okay?”

Jon shut his mouth and slowly put his fork down. “Fine. I just thought of something. I don't suppose you know a Robb Stark?”

“He's my brother!” Sansa chirped. Jon knew Robb? It really was a small world.

“Oh...”

At his tone, Sansa's heart sank. “What's oh...?”

What if Jon hated Robb? Would he decide he didn't like her either?

“I'm Robb's roommate,” Jon answered.

Sansa paused for a second and then said: “You're not going to call Bro Code or something and walk out, are you?”

Jon laughed and shook his head.

“Good,” Sansa said primly. “Because if you did, I'd have to tell Robb you broke my heart, and he'd be honor-bound to beat you up.”

“Well, I don't want to break your heart,” Jon teased, and Sansa felt her face grow warm. She hadn't meant for Jon to focus on _that_ part of it, even if it was a little bit true. She already liked Jon quite a bit and didn't like the thought of him leaving.

“Robb's mentioned you a few times,” she said, steering herself away from that train of thought. “I feel like I should have known that when I talked to you.”

“He talks about you sometimes too,” Jon replied. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly feel kind of stupid right now for not making the connection earlier.”

“I'm sure Sansa Stark's a common enough name.” Sansa shrugged. “And besides, it's not like we'd ever met before tonight.”

“True enough,” Jon said with a shrug of his own. He took a couple more of bites of his food.

**~O~**

They talked for a long time after that, the conversation flowing easily between them for the most part. Occasionally, one or the other would get distracted or say something foolish, but Jon didn't think either of them—especially him, since he was usually the one stumbling over his words—said anything too bad. Even with his mistakes, Jon found Sansa easy to talk to. Their only real disagreement came at the end of the meal. Jon wanted to pay for dinner, but Sansa wanted to pay for half.

While they struggled with this, Sansa seemed determined to distract Jon by talking about their friends. Not only did they both know Robb and Theon, Jon had met Margaery Tyrell a few times, and Sansa knew Sam. Apparently, Sansa had been a part of Sam's psych experiment last semester, and Jon's ex-boyfriend was currently dating Margaery's brother.

“Wait! I thought Loras was dating Renly Baratheon,” Sansa said, letting go of the check holder for a moment.

“Maybe I'm wrong,” Jon admitted, stealthily sliding it toward himself. “But I thought Satin said the guy's name was Willas.”

“Oh!” Sansa exclaimed. “Maybe it is. Margaery's oldest brother is named Willas. Does Satin's boyfriend use a cane?”

“He does.” Jon remembered because it had surprised him to learn that Satin was dating someone quite a bit older than him who used a cane.

“That's Willas. Huh.”

“What?”

“I just didn't know Willas liked men.”

While Sansa was distracted, Jon tried to sneak his debit card into the check holder.

Sansa smacked his hand.

“Ow!” Jon yelped, withdrawing his hand.

“ _I'll_ pay for my half,” Sansa insisted for the third time. She grabbed one end of the check holder.

“ _I_ asked you out,” Jon retorted, taking hold of the other end. “I should pay for the first date.”

“With that logic, I practically made you ask, so I should still pay for half.” Sansa pulled the leather folder towards her.

“Fiiiine...” Jon let the check holder go and took out his wallet. He took out enough cash for half the check. “But now I have to buy you ice cream or coffee or something to feel manly again.” Jon put his half of the money inside with the check and stood up.

Sansa followed suit, taking her jacket off the chair and putting it on.

The waitress appeared, took the check, and disappeared just as quickly.

“Oh, am I offending your masculine pride?” Sansa asked once she was gone. She started walking toward the door.

“Yes,” Jon grumbled, following her.

She looked back at him, and he gave her a small smile to let her know he didn't mean it. She smiled back and left the restaurant, holding the door open behind her, and he followed. After a moment, she said:

“I wouldn't say no to ice cream. I think there's a guy with a cart in the park.” She gestured down the street. “That is, if you want to go for a walk with me.”

She looked unsure, and Jon couldn't stand that. Before he could talk himself out of it, he took her hand. “Yes. I want to. Is this okay?” he added, looking pointedly at their joined hands.

Sansa nodded happily and tugged him towards the park. She didn't speak again until they were almost to the entrance.

“You know, you and I should send Willas a fruit basket or something. 'Welcome to the Bisexual Club.'”

“The Bisexual Club?” Jon asked, amused.

Sansa tilted her head to look at him. “Or are you pan? Obviously, you're not straight, and you said this was a date, so I don't think you're a gay guy looking for a new BFF.”

“No, I am definitely not gay or in the market for a 'new BFF.'”

“Good,” Sansa said, giving his hand a squeeze. “Bisexual then?”

“Yep.” He interlocked his fingers with hers.

They walked through the gate to the park, and Jon could see the ice cream cart far down the path. He looked over at Sansa. “I assume that means you're okay with this being a date? You're not in the market for a new queer friend?”

“I'm definitely okay with this being a date,” she replied, making Jon smile. “But also I'm _always_ in the market for a new queer friend. I don't have nearly enough.”

“I hear that,” Jon agreed. “Theon found out I liked guys too and tried to hassle me about it.”

At this, Sansa actually snorted, and Jon let out a surprised bark of laughter. He didn't take her for the type to snort. It was cute.

“What?” he asked.

“Theon's as gay the Reach in springtime,” Sansa declared. “He's just bitter and closeted because Robb is _really_ straight.”

“Seriously?!” Jon asked incredulously.

“Yes! Watch Theon a bit the next time you see him with Robb. The thirst is real.”

Jon gaped at her for a moment and then started to laugh. Sansa joined in, and soon they were laughing so hard that they had to stop and lean on each other to keep upright. Jon couldn't believe it. Skirt-chasing, Axe body spray-wearing Theon Greyjoy had a hard-on for Robb Stark.

“Gods,” Jon gasped. “If Theon weren't such a prick, I'd feel bad for him. Robb...Robb wears _flannel,_ in the _summer_ , for fuck's sake. Poor bastard doesn't have a prayer.”

“I know! Of all the guys to have a crush on.” Sansa started taking deep breaths to calm herself, and Jon followed her example.

He focused on the sidewalk, because he was certain if he saw her face, he'd start laughing again. After several deep breaths, he looked up at Sansa, and he was struck dumb. They were beneath a streetlight, so he could see her face clearly. She was was flushed pink from laughing so much, her blue eyes were shining, and her mouth was curled into a blissful smile. She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked without thinking.

She froze, and he did too. He thought for a second about taking the question back but then decided he _really_ didn't want to. He waited with bated breath for her reply.

She watched him for a moment, considering, and then smiled. “Okay.”

He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. It was a chaste kiss, little more than a quick pull of lips, but it was enough to send a frisson of heat through him. He was a bit breathless when he pulled back, and Sansa appeared similarly dazed.

He felt like he should say something, but before he could think of anything, her mouth was back on his. Sansa bit down on his bottom lip and gently pulled at it. Jon let out a groan and opened his mouth for her. She took that for the invitation it was, and Jon groaned again at the silken feel of her mouth moving against his. He plunged his hands into her hair, running his fingers through the thick, red locks, and he was pleased when he heard her let out a shaky moan. As his hands finished their path through her hair and began to slide down her back, he felt her hands at the back of his neck. They moved up, fingers catching in his tangled hair, and he let out a grunt and kissed her harder.

After a moment, they broke apart again, this time for air. Jon noticed that he'd pulled Sansa tight against him. One of his hands was firmly placed at the small of her back, and the other had found its way back up to her hair. One of _her_ hands had found its way beneath his jacket, her nails digging into his shoulder through his shirt. Her other hand was still tangled in his hair. They were both panting, and Jon could taste lemons on her breath. He kissed her again. It was quick, like the first one, but it was enough to make Sansa gasp against his mouth.

“We should probably call it a night,” she panted when they broke apart again.

Jon would have felt dejected, but he didn't have the time, because she immediately grabbed the lapels of his jacket and yanked his mouth back to hers, kissing fiercely. He let out a surprised grunt and kissed back, running his hands up and down her sides beneath her jacket. He blinked in confusion when she pulled away again.

“Or go somewhere else?” she suggested breathlessly.

He kissed her again to show how much he liked that suggestion. His hands moved up her sides again, and he grinned at the shaky moan she let out when his hands grazed her breasts before settling on her shoulders. He let out a shudder of his own when he felt her hands move away from his lapels, trailing down his torso towards the button of his jeans. She turned her head away with a gasp, and he began pressing kisses to her neck. His hands began to slide downward, taking her jacket with them and baring her shoulders.

“Your apartment's closer,” she said hurriedly.

Jon stopped and laid his forehead against hers, closing his eyes for a moment. There was something important about his apartment...What was it again?

“ _Now_ , are you going to call Bro Code and walk away?” Sansa's voice sounded brittle, like the words pained her, and Jon's eyes shot open. Her blue eyes had darkened to indigo, and her kiss-swollen lips were now a dark red. It pained Jon to see her looking so unsure, and he _finally_ remembered what made him hesitate.

“No,” he breathed. “Gods, no.” He gave her another kiss, quick and innocent like the first one, and he felt her smile against his mouth. When they broke apart, he added: “I'm just trying to remember if Robb's there or not.”

“Oh...okay.”

“I think he said he'd be spending the night at Jeyne's.”

Sansa's face split into a beatific smile, and Jon forgot how to talk for a moment.

“Good.” She tried to step back, but Jon kept her tight against him, his forehead against hers. He watched her intently.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

The smile slid off her face, and she looked thoughtful for a moment. Just as Jon was about to tell her she didn't have to, she smiled again. “Yes, I'm sure. Now, let's _go_.”

**~O~**

Thankfully, the walk to Jon's apartment was a quick one, and Sansa soon found herself pressed against Jon's door with his mouth _plundering_ hers. She kissed back with just as much hunger, her hands rapidly undoing the buttons of his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. His hands left her for a moment to toss the jacket aside, and then they were gripping her hips. She hitched one leg over his hip, and he took the hint, lifting her up, so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She gasped when he pressed even harder against her. _This_ was what she wanted when she thought sex on the first date. Fire, hunger, wanting someone so much you could forego air as long as you were touching them.

“Bedroom?” she asked, when he pulled away and started kissing and sucking at her neck.

Jon stopped and took several deep breaths, his forehead pressed against her collarbone.

“Jon?” she asked.

“I need a minute.” He took another deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath as well, trying to calm her racing heart.

After a moment, he put her down and kissed her again. This one was markedly different from their previous frenzied kisses. It was a slow and sensual drag of lips and tongues that had Sansa's knees threatening to give out.

“Another minute,” Jon breathed when they broke apart.

Sansa almost whined at the request, but then she noticed him toeing off his shoes. Oh, that was a good thing. Less clothing was definitely a good thing. She stepped out of her sandals and pushed them away from the door. As soon as they were both barefoot, Jon gave her another one of those mind-melting kisses and pulled her deeper into the apartment. They would only make it a few steps at a time before one of them would pull the other in for a kiss and start pulling at each other's clothes. By the time they made it past Jon's bedroom door, Sansa was missing her jacket, and Jon was down a shirt.

Soon, they were standing at the foot of the bed. Sansa felt Jon's warm hands on her bare shoulders, sliding under the straps of her dress and pushing them down. The dress slid down her body to the floor, leaving Sansa in her underwear, and she shuddered at the intensity of Jon's heavy-lidded gaze. Cradling her face in his hands, he pulled her in for another hungry kiss, and Sansa shuddered again when she felt his fingers trail down her neck, past her shoulders, and to her ribs. His palms slid over her ribs to her back and stopped at the catch of her bra.

“Can I take this off?” he whispered into her mouth.

“Yes,” she whispered back and gave him another kiss, pulling at his bottom lip with her teeth. She moved down, pressing kisses to his throat while his hands worked at her bra. She felt it tighten and then come loose, and his hands moved up her back to her shoulders. His fingers hooked around the straps and pushed the bra down her arms. She helped it along, pushing it to the floor and then pulling him back to her. She trailed biting kisses up the side of his neck before nipping his earlobe.

She felt his hands on the sides of her head, pushing her away. Reluctantly, she pulled back, panting. His black eyes focused on her bare breasts for a moment before catching her eyes again. He kissed her again, sending fire through her veins, then nipped her chin and started kissing down her neck, making her tremble. Occasionally, he'd nip at a spot on her neck, making her twitch, and when he sucked hard at a tender spot beneath the curve of her jaw, she moaned, the sound loud in the silent room. She was embarrassed for a moment, but that feeling disappeared when he sucked at her neck again. He licked at the spot to soothe it and then moved further down. When he sucked at her pulse, she let out another loud moan, and she felt him smile against her neck.

She tugged at his hair and was surprised when he groaned. Curious, she dug her nails into his scalp and dragged them down to the nape of his neck, making him shudder violently. Using both hands now, she dug her nails lightly into the flesh of his back and dragged them down, moving toward his sides. She stopped when her fingers met the fabric of his jeans, and her hands lingered for a moment before sliding up his stomach and chest. She cupped his jaw and pulled him off her neck, kissing his lips again. She felt his hands slide down her sides, and his fingers slid beneath the waistband of her panties. He pulled away from her mouth and looked down. She looked down as well when she felt his fingers move toward her hip and stop behind one of the large bows there. Jon's heavy-lidded eyes locked with hers again, and she was shocked when his lips quirked into a predatory smile.

He kissed her ear. “I remember these...” he breathed, and Sansa trembled, gripping his shoulders. “...from that picture you sent me. D'you want to know what I thought about when I saw you in these, sweet girl?”

“Yes,” she rasped. She moaned when he started kissing his way down her neck to the tops of her breasts.

“I thought about getting down on my knees...” His tongue circled one of her nipples, hardening it into a tight bud, and then he sucked it into his mouth. Sansa mewled and tangled her hands in his hair. One of his hands continued to play with the waist of her panties, but the other moved up to massage her other breast. After several moments of this, he placed a last, lingering kiss on her nipple and then moved to the other one, taking it in his mouth. He sucked hard, and the pleasure-pain of it made Sansa cry out. He gave her nipple a quick lick as if in apology and moved his mouth downward, pressing kisses to her stomach as he lowered himself to his knees. His hands slid after him, down her sides until he was gripping her hips. He kissed her mound through the fabric of her underwear, and Sansa let out a shaky breath. His fingers slipped under the waistband behind the ribbons.

“I thought about undoing these ribbons with my teeth,” he confessed, voice almost a growl. “And burying my face between these long, long legs.” He gripped her thighs for a moment before sliding his palms down her legs. When he got to her ankles, he slid his hands back up until he was clutching her ass. He kissed her mound a few more times and then moved down to her thighs. “Gorgeous legs. Gorgeous everything.”

Sansa had never had a partner who _talked_ to her so much during sex before. She'd never understood the appeal of dirty talk either. She did now though. Gods, she didn't think she'd ever been as wet as she was now. She feels his mouth trail up her thigh and to her hip, settling over the ribbon there. Once again, his hands were sliding slowly up and down her legs.

“Do you want me to?” he asked.

“What?” she rasped, nearly overwhelmed by sensation.

She felt him smile against her hip and gasped loudly when he gave the ridge of her hipbone a slow lick.

“I asked if you wanted me to undo these ribbons with my teeth...” He kissed the skin above the ribbon. “...and then lick your pretty cunt...” He licked the hollow of her hipbone. “...until you come on my tongue.”

“Yes. Yes, _please,_ ” she breathed. “Use your mouth on me.”

She gasped when she felt his hands squeeze her ass, pushing her even closer to his face. She felt his teeth graze her skin before they closed around one of the ribbons at her hip. In a painfully slow move, he pulled away, dragging the ribbon with him until the bow at her hip unraveled. He immediately kissed the exposed skin and then started moving toward her other hip, pressing kisses as he went. She sighed when he kissed the top of her exposed mound, and she slid her fingers down to play in his hair. He hummed contentedly in response, and she shuddered at the delightful vibrations the noise sent through her. His mouth continued its path to her other hipbone, teeth catching one of the ribbons there. Once again, he pulled away until the ribbon unraveled and then pressed a kiss to the newly exposed skin. He took his hands off her ass, and Sansa shuddered as her panties slid down her legs, the silken fabric a caress on her sensitized skin.

“Sit down for me, sweet girl,” he breathed against her, using his hands to gently push her towards the bed. Her knees buckled, and she dropped onto the bed, legs spread. She felt him pressing kisses up her inner thigh, and she held her breath in anticipation. When his hands settled, one on each thigh, he used his thumbs to pull apart her folds. As soon as he did, she felt a rivulet of wetness slide down, and her breath came out in a whine. It was embarrassing, how wet she was.

 _It's that voice of his_ , she decided. Filthy, _perfect_ words spoken with that harsh far North accent and that husky voice that seems to have dropped at least an octave since they started all of this.

“You're so wet,” he breathed. And there he went again, voice a harsh rasp. She was certain it made her even wetter.

He sounded like he couldn't believe what he was seeing, and it made her squeeze her eyes shut in embarrassment. Before she could think too much about it though, his mouth was on her, tongue licking a long, broad stroke up her slit. It wrenched a choked sound out of her throat, and then she didn't think at all. She only felt. She felt his hands move down from her inner thighs, sliding under them so his arms could hook around her legs. His hands finally settled on her hips, yanking her even closer as he kept his word and buried his face between her legs.

He licked with broad strokes from the source of her wetness to the top of her slit, his tongue flicking the hard bud it found there. After a time, he focused his attention solely on that, using his tongue and lips, even a hint of teeth that made Sansa cry out in shocked pleasure. One of his arms stretched entirely across her hips to keep them from bucking too much while the other moved back to her cunt. Mouth still focused on her clit, he slipped two, and then three fingers inside her, scissoring them out. The stretch, combined with the amazing ministrations of his mouth, was enough to make her come, one hand grasping the sheets and the other gripping his hair to pull him closer.

It felt like it took forever to come down. Her hips twitched occasionally, chasing the remnants of her orgasm, and it felt like everything was muted. Her eyes were blurry, and her hearing was fuzzy, as though she'd stuffed cotton in her ears. Her only response to a tap on her outer thigh was a punched out giggle. When the tapping continued, she frowned and looked down, wondering what was going on. She gasped when she realized that her thighs were tightly wrapped around Jon's head, and her hand was still fisted in his hair. She let go of him and spread her legs.

“I am so sorry,” she gasped.

He looked up at her and smiled. The entire lower half of his face wet from her. “It's fine. I can't imagine a better way to go. I'd just rather it not be tonight,” he teased.

She let out an embarrassed whine and dropped her head back on the mattress, bringing her arms up to cover her face. She squirmed when she felt his lips on her stomach, but that didn't keep him from moving up, pressing kisses to her stomach, between her breasts, to her throat, her chin, and then finally her lips. It was a quick, smacking kiss, no finesse at all, because Sansa didn't have quite enough working brain cells yet, but Jon didn't seem to mind. He simply smiled and asked, “Can I get on the bed too?”

“Oh!” She suddenly realized that she was only half on the bed. From the hips down, she was draped off the foot of it. “Yes.”

She propped herself on her elbows and pushed herself into a sitting position. She meant to move back, but she found herself distracted by the man standing in front of her. He really was gorgeous; toned chest, defined abs, and sharp hipbones that she had a sudden urge to bite. She looked lower and was very put out when she realized that he was somehow still wearing pants. How was that possible?

Forgetting to let him on the bed, she got on her knees, bracing herself with her hands on his shoulders. She looked up at his face and found him looking bemused but interested. It was an endearing look, and she kissed him again. It was gentle, more playful and than sexy, and she smiled at him when they broke apart. Then, she got distracted by his body again. She absently kissed his throat while her hands seemed to move of their own volition, sliding from his shoulders to his chest. His breathing grew heavier as her thumbs circled his nipples, tightening them into hard peaks. He made a surprised sound when she caught one with her teeth, and it changed to a low groan when she licked it to soothe the sting. She repeated the action with his other nipple, smiling when she got a similar reaction. She gave his nipple a last, lingering kiss and looked up at him again. Remembering an earlier reaction of his, she lightly dug her nails into his skin and dragged them down his sides, drawing shivers out of him. The progress of her hands was stopped by his pants, so she slid her fingers over his waistband, her hands meeting over the button of his jeans. She pressed her lips to the corner of his jaw and then trailed them up to his ear.

“Can I take these off?” she breathed.

“Yes,” he croaked back. “Please.”

Still planting kisses over and around his ear, she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, only pulling away to slide her fingers into the top of his underwear and push them down too. She vaguely noticed him stepping out of his pants and kicking them away, but most of her attention was on his exposed cock. She rarely thought penises looked attractive, but his was certainly an exception. Long and flushed a dark pink, it rose in a slight curve from a nest of black curls. It was also thick, but not intimidatingly so, just enough for her to _really_ want it inside her. She wrapped her hand around it, sliding her thumb over the head to collect the precome that was already forming there. She stroked it a few times, relishing its weight and thickness. She would have made him come too, but one of his hands closed around her wrist.

She looked up at him. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, just, wanna be inside you.”

The thought of him inside her made feel breathless and shivery. “Yes.”

She kissed him again, and this one was sexual, slow and deliberate, and she shuddered when she felt his hands tangling in her hair again. They broke apart, and she moved back onto the bed, settling on her back with her arms on either side of her head. His body covered hers, pressing kisses to her breasts, neck, and lips. Her fingers dug into his hair, pulling him closer while they kissed, and her legs came up to settle around his hips. After a moment, he pulled away, reaching for his nightstand. He slid open the drawer and rifled inside for a second before taking out a condom. She smiled at his conscientiousness and then took the condom from him. She kissed him again when he made a puzzled noise.

“I want to put it on you,” she said against his mouth and felt him smile in response. She carefully tore the foil wrapper and slid the condom over his erection, stroking him once to make sure she'd put it on properly. She took her hand away and placed it on the back of his neck, pulling him down so his forehead was pressed to hers. “Now...”

The word became a sigh as he pushed himself inside her, a slow, pleasurable stretch that made her hips buck against him. He pulled back just as slowly and slid in again, sending a gentle pulse of sensation through her.

“You feel so good,” he breathed into her neck, and she let out a contented sigh, tightening her legs around his hips. His first few thrusts were more of the same, slow and deep, but soon, he began to thrust harder and faster, intensifying the sensation for her. He adjusted his hips, and she let out a choked gasp when she realized that she would probably come again.

“Harder,” she panted.

He obliged her, hooking one of her knees over his elbow and _driving_ himself into her, pulling another choked sound from her.

“That good?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Yes!”

He kept up the hard pace, and then he started _talking_ again.

“I thought about this too,” he said darkly. “Seeing you spread out on my bed, under me, grabbing your hips while I thrust inside you.” He gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and thrust particularly hard, making her cry out in pleasure. “You feel so good, Sansa. So soft and warm and fucking perfect.”

She gasped and arched against him when his fingers found his way to her clit, rubbing rapid circles around it. She was so close.

“You gonna come again?” he rasped.

Sansa tensed and clung tighter, chasing her pleasure.

“I want you to. Come for me, sweet girl.”

She came hard, crying out his name. He followed with a deep groan a few strokes later, collapsing on top of her. It drew a breathy chuckle from her, and she managed to work up enough energy to rub his back. He hummed contentedly, and she smiled when she felt his fingers playing with locks of her hair again. She turned her head and pressed a light kiss to his lips, which he returned. After a long time spent exchanging lazy kisses, Jon rolled off her and removed the condom. Tying it off, he tossed it into a small wastebasket near the nightstand and then promptly flopped back onto the bed. He rolled over with a groan, making Sansa giggle.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked, sounding amused.

“Nothing,” she replied. “That was just...wow.”

Jon chuckled. “Aye, for me too.”

Sansa turned her head to look at him. She thought he looked a bit smug, but she really couldn't blame him. She wasn't sure she could move any more tonight. She wanted to try though. After a moment, she managed to roll over and lay her head on Jon's chest. She sighed happily when his hand came up to stroke her spine.

“Would you like me to stay?” she asked, not wanting to deal with any hemming and hawing about _that,_ especially after such a great night.

“Yes,” Jon replied, pulling her even closer to him. “I'd like you to stay.”

Sansa felt warmth bloom in her chest, and she smiled. She nuzzled his chest. “Good, because I want to stay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Nice asks on Tumblr and Ceelo Green's "Music to My Soul" makes magic happen.  
> Real talk, someone sent me a really nice ask on Tumblr today, and that gave me the incentive I needed to finish this fic.  
> If anyone else wants to boost my confidence in my smut writing skills, feel free to message me on Tumblr.


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